


The Efficiency that Only Youth Can Harness

by nessiepresso



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: After season 1, Asexual Raphael, Bisexual Simon, Grey-romantic Raphael, M/M, Slow Burn, or at least I try to, overcoming betrayal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6583468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessiepresso/pseuds/nessiepresso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being betrayed by Simon and his Shadowhunter friends, the power-striving, vampire clan Leader Raphael Santiago finds himself thinking incessantly about the boy. He wants to understand this feeling, and as everything Raphael wants - Raphael gets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Better Methods

**Author's Note:**

> As everything I ever write: this is based on a loose strand of thoughts I had, Love is a Laser Quest by Arctic Monkeys and Rock Bottom by Hailee Steinfield. And a lot of feelings. Constructive criticism is welcomed. This is the first chapters, new chapters to come out at least once a week :)

 

 

 There’s a knock at his office’s door, near dawn, and Raphael sighs in exasperation, striding towards it, ready to sneer at _Sim – Wait_ , he thinks, his hand on the door knob, _it’s impossible for it to be Simon. Recomponte, Raphael!_

 And indeed, it is just Lily, reporting on the current territory boundaries for the clan.  He lets her in, everything in his expression screaming business man. Being a clan leader didn’t mean endless office hours but Raphael did like to be up-to-date on any and everything concerning his clan and territory. He strived for greatness and it was busy work.

 She briefly updates him on their conflict with a rogue vampire before leaving. As she does so, she places some paperwork on Raphael’s desk; motions and requests and a few terms of acceptance. Raphael glances over to them but heads for his blood-vault instead, his mind racing back to a certain annoying backstabbing fledgling as he pours himself a glass of O+.

 It wasn’t the first time in the last two weeks this had happened.

 The first time had been at a clan meeting. They had those about once or twice a week:  make sure no Downworlder overstepped their territory, solving petty feuds between old clan members, demystifying whispers and rumours of demonic attacks, strategy setting, etc., etc. And, in the last meeting, a fledgling (Raphael thinks the clan ought to take in every abandoned fledgling they find in the streets) had made a Star Wars joke and it was all Raphael could do to bite down on his tongue before calling out loud for Simon to _just stop with the jokes already_ , _this was a serious meeting_. That first time, he took a deep breath and didn’t look back on it.

 The second time happened after a night out. After solving some clan business, as per usual, Raphael came back to a shattered vase in his office. He immediately strode down to Simon’s room, to warn him to stay out of his office if he couldn’t manage the non-destruction of valuable relics. He was mid-knocking when he remembered there was no-one there. He pinched the bridge of his nose and set his shoulders, eyes set on the door and mind trying to understand what was going on with him.

 That made tonight the third time Raphael caught himself thinking about Simon.

 Was Raphael feeling lonely? He chuckled dryly at the prospect. He had many friends and a whole clan to fall back on, if needed be. He wasn’t lonely, and he most certainly didn’t miss that exasperating boy. He tells himself he’s just tired, still tired from having to put up with Simon, who could talk miles and had at least three hundred different pop-culture-related topics ready to discuss at all times. Simon who would tire himself before even beginning training, who couldn’t focus on his _encantos_ because he was always thinking about what would happen to the person he was training on. Simon who was always in a good mood and always smiling like the sun. Simon, who...

 Raphael caught his train of thought before it ran off with Simon and took a sip of his glass of blood.

***

 The following night, nobody dared speak to Raphael. He was sneering, yelling and generally shutting out everyone who tried to speak to him. Lily, being one of the oldest officials, and one of the most trusted clan members, just reassured everyone that “if you ignore it, it’ll go away” and “he is brooding over his lost puppy”. She herself had to dodge a glass cup Raphael had thrown in her general direction – it’s not as if she’d brought Simon up or anything. Or maybe she had. Once. Or three times.

 Raphael himself was locked away in his office – well, that’s what he called it, but it was really just the living room of the would-be penthouse of the Hotel: he had a full apartment to himself, even if he didn’t need it – and he was pacing incessantly from the living room to the balcony. The vampire had tried focusing on the forms and documents Lily had brought over the night before, but he had gotten restless, his gaze drifting to the wall or windows, biting his lower lip absent-mindedly. Something was throwing him off his game. Rather, _someone_.

 If only he hadn’t made a promise to look after Simon, he would’ve probably killed the boy when he freed Camille. At least, that’s the story Raphael’d told everyone when the clan inquired him on why Simon hadn’t been punished. But he knew that was a lie – not a bone in his body would’ve enjoyed killing Simon even if – and that much Raphael admits – he probably would have done it anyway, out of anger. It seemed, he mused, Simon brought out the human in him; Raphael never knew himself to be passionate about anything other than power, although he was known to be compassionate towards newly Turned vampires. But. That had to be it, then. Raphael, having made a promise to look after Simon, felt compassionate towards his new state of being.

 ****

 Raphael spent the rest of the night trying to focus on his work although he kept trying to assure his mind Simon was nothing, Simon was just a fledgling he pitied. But his mind wouldn’t let it rest and now Raphael could almost feel the scent of Simon’s cologne, the coffee aroma that lingered in his shirts (although Simon wouldn’t drink coffee anymore, he used to hang out at coffeeshops, in the late evening, with his mundane friends). He thought he was losing it, hallucinating probably; however, this time, it really was Simon standing outside – he smelled the angel blood that flowed through his Shadowhunter friends alongside Simon’s own scent, and Shadowhunter blood was unmistakable.

 The clan leader left his office and went down the stairs; he stopped on the landing between the first floor and the lobby. Stan, Lily and a few other vampires stood in a circle, baring their teeth at Simon and his red-headed friend. A cool air of contempt set over Raphael’s face.

 “So, the betrayer comes running back with his tail between his legs.”

 “Raphael!” Simon turns his way quickly, fidgeting, his hands rubbing his jeans “C-Could we maybe, uhm, speak? In private?” He punctuates his question with a tiny nod towards upstairs.

“Let me guess,” Raphael’s fangs glow in the Hotel’s light, his smile cruel. “You and your Nephilim pals need my help.”

 Simon nods his head uncertainly at this. “Well, we...we do, actually.”

 Raphael laughs bitterly and looks at his clan, all of them ready to break the Accords if his leader asks them to. He raises a hand, dismissing the vampires, and nods almost imperceptibly towards Lily to look over the most trigger-happy ones. He’s still deciding Simon’s fate.

 “You people amuse me.” He starts down the last flight of stairs, coming closer to the duo. Clary Fairchild is quiet but alert, as always. Simon looks ready to run but there’s fiery determination in his eyes.  “First, you go against my commands. Direct orders from your leader and sire-”

 Simon mumbles something about how, actually, Raphael is _only_ interim chapter president and he didn’t even _sire him fully_ and gets a pointed glare from the other vampire for it.

“Fine, yeah, sure. Raphael, you’re totally right about it. I did go against your direct orders and I regret that deeply.” Simon lifts his index finger before Raphael can shoot a response, “I did a terrible thing and believe me when I say I am, like, so _so_ grateful you haven’t staked me yet.”

 “The thought did cross my mind.”

 “As it would, of course.” Simon puts a hand in front of Clary to stop her from starting forward; she looks ready to strike Raphael for thinking about killing Simon, the latter laughs nervously. “But believe me I only came here because it’s important. Our alliance is important, Raphael. You– Us, the Night Children,” Simon gulps, “and the Shadowhunters, the Nephilim. You know I’m right about this. And we really, really, _really_ need you to help is with a tiny, itsy –”

 “You want my help with the rogues that have been appearing in this area. We, the night children can’t kill them, but you know we would try to control the situation. Only you Shadowhunters,” Raphael fixates his gaze on Clary when he speaks, “have the power to kill Downworlders at your pleasure.”

 “I sure would love staking you if you so much as even think about lifting a finger against Simon.” Clary smiles, her eyes trained on her surroundings – she knew coming to the DuMort after going against Raphael would be dangerous and she refused to let Simon go alone.

 Raphael mirrors her smile and proceeds with his train of thought.

 “As I said, only you Nephilim can decide whether a Downworlder gets to live or die. So, for you to be asking assistance, even if this is the Night Children’s territory, means you have no idea how to find these rogues and want us to do the dirty job.”

“That’s basically the gist of it, yeah.” Clary grants with a nod, following Raphael with her gaze; he is pacing in front of them, a puma deciding when to attack.

  Raphael seems to consider the request, his left hand absently opening and closing around his right wrist. Raphael takes a look at the both of them and fixes his gaze on the younger vampire for a minute that seems to Simon like ten centuries.

 “Very well. I have a proposal.” And then there’s that pointed smile again. Simon squirms in place and Clary waits for the vampire to explain further. Raphael pauses for effect, his fingers moving deliberately across the railing of the stairs. “You need my help, but there’s nothing I’d want from you backstabbers. Except, well, the fledgeling.”  

 “No way.” Is Clary’s immediate response, as Raphael knew it would be. But Raphael also knows how Simon will try to convince her it’s for the best, if they really need the Night Children’s Help.

 “Now, wait, Clary. It’s okay? I mean. Raphael’s not gonna eat me for breakfast. Are you?” Simon swallows visibly, and Raphael is pleased with this turn of events.

 “I’m a man of my word and, unlike you, won’t betray our agreement. I intend to groom Simon into a full-fledged vampire.” _While also discovering what it is about him that makes me so uneasy,_ Raphael ponders.

 Simon and Clary trade hushed words – not that Raphael couldn’t listen in, but he has no need to: he’s pretty sure the outcome will benefit him. Clary looks distressed and it seems like Simon is trying to comfort her. Honestly, it’s all very unnerving for Raphael. How long do they need to reach a consensus?

 “Okay, so, this whole me being your prisoner thing,” Simon gulps, “Like, does it come with weekly visits?”

 “Simon, no-!”

 “You won’t be my prisoner, but my apprentice. During the course of the investigation you will be forbidden of going outside the DuMort, unless I give my permission or order. You are to train under my guidance and, at last, embrace your Vampire heritage.”

 Raphael glances at the red-haired girl. She looks ready to drag Simon away, her hand clasped around his wrist. Simon, on the other hand, looks defiant.

 “And after the investigation is over and done with? Am I free to go?” Raphael sees in Simon’s eyes the boy doesn’t think it’ll be that easy and he smiles at that.

 “It will depend solely on your development.” Or, rather, on how long it will take Raphael to be sick of him.

 The glances Simon and Clary trade then tell Raphael he succeeded.


	2. In Cities We'll Only Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me a while to update, I'm sorry. Simon PoV this time around :)

               The first night is torture for Simon. Well. Okay. Maybe not torture… but very disagreeable.

               Simon feels like he’s Rapunzel. A beautiful princess wasting away in a tower. Or, in his case, a teenage vampire fledgling locked in his room without any of his books or movies or guitar, no one to talk to and no way out. Unless he feels like jumping down from a tenth floor. Which, for the record, he doesn’t.

               Raphael hadn’t said a word to him besides allowing Simon to go back for some clothes before submitting himself as a political prisoner (Simon coined that term). And then, when Simon got back, he simply loomed in a corner as Simon came into the Hotel to fulfill his part of the deal. Raphael merely instructed Stan and his gang to escort Simon to his own room, which was mostly empty except for an old mattress (no caskets for Simon, thank you very much!) and a heavy set of dark curtains. It wasn’t that bad. Except for the constant threat of a hundred vampires – just because Raphael had promised not to kill Simon and look after him, didn’t mean other vampires wouldn’t get to him before the leader could help it. Simon had pissed off a lot of people by freeing Camille.

               He really ought to stop encouraging his friends when the plans involved him being left with the vampires he betrayed.

               But he knows how important it is to Clary to track the rogue vampires: Alec had heard from his warlock boyfriend the rogues were most likely connected to Valentine in some way, if one was to believe the gossip and rumours of the Shadow World. And Valentine leads to Jace.

               And of course, living-and-breathing-Jace leads to a happy Clary, and that is all Simon cares for.

               But, there’s only so many times you can count the tiles on your floor, or how many windows the building upfront has, before you go insane. Simon tries to sleep but, instead, he thinks of how Raphael will torture him – training, lectures and so on – when he actually decides to talk to Simon, and sleep seems far away.

               Simon still doesn’t feel good about freeing Camille, but he made a decision for the sake of his best friend. And Simon’s sure he’d do it again – for Clary, he would probably go out in the sunlight.

               After many turns, shuffling and trying to count the stars, Simon feels sleep come in restless bits. Today’s insomnia on the side, he’s actually getting better at sleeping during the day, even though he still needs something to keep him busy if he wants to stay awake all night.   

***

               It’s not much later Simon finds himself knocking on Raphael’s door. There’s still a couple hours to go before sunset but Simon can’t spend another minute in that mattress.

               The vampire hears a faint rustle of cloth – probably Raphael getting up (of his casket or his bed Simon wouldn’t be able to tell, he’s never seen Raphael sleeping) – and light footsteps. Woman’s, from the way the heel hits the floor.

 _So, Raphael is not alone, maybe I should come back later._ As Simon starts to turn away, Lily opens the door and looks him over.

               “It’s your pet.” Simon frowns as she steps to the side to let him in. It’s not that Lily, or Raphael, hadn’t known it was Simon knocking, but vampires had an annoying habit of stating the obvious.

               “What do you want fledgling?” Raphael’s voice is coming from the room but Simon can’t see him from the doorway.

               “Nothing much.” Simon debates whether to go inside or just leave. “I’ll come back later, I think.”

               “No need, little boy, I’m done here. He’s all yours.” Lily strides past Simon, her stilettos tapping lightly on the marble floor as she waves goodbye. Simon thinks she walks like a vintage movie star.

               “T-thanks? I guess?”

               “What do you want, Simon? It’s too early in the night for you to come pester me.” Simon enters the penthouse and finds Raphael plastered on the couch, reading a book and drinking blood from a wine glass, not too pleased to see Simon. _What a domestic-looking thing for a vampire to do,_ he thinks.

               “Sorry, Raphael but I just…Well,” Simon shrugs, “I thought you’d give me some vampire assignments or, I don’t know, make me run laps inside the lobby…or make me learn the names of ancient vampire leaders. Wasn’t that the deal?”

               “I’m otherwise preoccupied at the moment.” Simon’s eyebrow shoots up and Raphael scowls. “You hate my lessons and you hate training. Have you finally outgrown your _Trek Wars_ cartoons? And what exactly are «vampire assignments»?”

“Wow. Okay, first of all, offensive! It’s Star Wars and-slash-or Star Trek and you know this. Also they’re not cartoons and I forgot my laptop at home. And my guitar. And …I packed light, okay? I…I’m bored.”

               “Sí, pues, too bad for you, but I have to deal with more important matters than you right now. Go sleep or pester Stan if you want to train.” Raphael sighs, stiring his glass lazily.  His eyes focus back on the book, his shoulders square. His whole body language suggests he doesn’t want the young vampire around, he looks tense and irritated. Which, honestly just makes Simon think back to Raphael telling the others he betrayed them, he looked a bit more on the murderous side then, but he gave off the same energy as now.

               “Yeah, no, okay. I. I understand.”

               Still, the conversation went better than Simon could’ve hoped for. Raphael didn’t seem intent on killing Simon, so that was a plus. Despite this, Simon still felt a knot in his throat - he was the reason Raphael was irritated.

               “I’m sorry.” Simon utters before turning to leave. He feels Raphael’s eyes on his back and stops half-way to the door. “I never actually said it, but I know you know I am. Sorry. About Camille. But we also know I wouldn’t have done it any differently.”

               When Simon sneaks a glance at Raphael, the leader is focused on the book, so Simon leaves the penthouse.

***

                Three days come and go before Raphael actually sends for Simon. The young vampire is hanging, head down, from a pull up bar he found in a corner (and decided to set on the door frame of the bathroom) when Stan opens the door and comes inside.

                “Hey, what happened to knocking?”

                “Didn’t you hear my footsteps?”

                “Not the same as actually giving you permission to come inside.” Simon notes, dropping to the floor with as much grace as he can muster. Which is to say he bangs his left foot on the sink on the other side of the door frame and stumbles forward before steading himself.

                “Raphael called for you. Come.” Stan beckons.

                Simon follows Stan through an endless number of corridors and stairs, it’s clear that they’re not going to the penthouse. The fledgling might be a bit concerned Stan will stab him in a dark corner, just a tiny bit concerned. They stop in front of a door that says “Working Personnel Only” and Stan pushes it open.

                Behind the door is, what probably was going to be, an industrial kitchen. Someone dragged all the working stations to the far-off wall, and installed hooks, buckets, and got themselves some nice leather sofas over a Persian rug. It looks like the set of a horror flick. In which American Psycho meets John Carpenter’s movies and tops it off with some really expensive taste.

                The door locks behind Simon and the boy sees Stan has disappeared.

                “You know what this is?” Simon would recognize Raphael’s voice anywhere. The Clan Leader emerges from what seems to be a walk-in freezer, a grim look on his face.

                “I’m guessing it’s not a BDSM playroom.” The boy offers nervously.

                “Indeed it is not. This is where Camille kept her subjugates.”

                Something about Raphael’s expression tells Simon that he shouldn’t go in that freezer.

                “This is what you set free. Camille is a very old vampire, from before the Accords. She never cared for them, she just did enough so Shadowhunters wouldn’t come for her.”

                Simon knows Camille was known for having a few subjugates. Techinically, they were legal, were made to sign the same papers as she had given Simon when he set her free. Technically. But “a few subjugates” didn’t call for a freezer or this American Horror Story set up. Slowly, Simon walks up to the freezer, eyes fixed on the door.

                Raphael snarls at Simon as the boy steps beside him to see the inside of the freezer. A handful of bodies lay in countertops, their lips purple and frosty, bite marks on their necks, wrists, legs. Simon feels his figurative heart drop to his stomach, a growing revulsion battling his own hunger. The division smells faintly of blood.

                The young vampire is at a loss for words, his eyes darting between the bodies and Raphael. “I—“

                Raphael gestures for him to stop talking.

 


End file.
